


sparks; fused

by Redburn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Shenanigans, impossible first encounters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redburn/pseuds/Redburn
Summary: “Sorry, sorry. It’s okay-- I’m not robbing you, or going to kill you, or something.” Lance falls into Keith's quiet life at 2:17am of all times. Literally. Right through Keith's college dorm window.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't posted in a while (been in a bit of a writing funk) so this might not be good, but oh well, lmao
> 
> hopefully I'll get more ideas soon, but for now have this :)

_september 13 th_

 

“Yeah, Shiro, don’t worry. Yes, I’ll remember to get mum a present. Okay. Yep. Goodnight.”

He put his phone on silent, then, and placed it back down on his bedside table. It was late, his first assignment still illuminating the room from the soft glow of his laptop. He decided to leave it, for now. He’s still got another 2 weeks.

He washed his face at the small sink in his room before brushing his teeth. He side-eyes the calendar his mum got him, already wishing it was December instead.

It’s a bit stuffy in his room. He cracks the window above his bed open, letting the crisp fall air waft in.

His head hits the pillow and he’s out in an instant.

 

 

“Shit, _shit_.”

Are the words Keith hears before a body is falling on top of him; _hard_.

“What the fuck?!” Keith shoots up, on full alert mode.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s okay-- I’m not robbing you, or going to kill you, or something.”

Keith flicks his lamp on, mind groggy but he’s ready to fight if he has to. He’s met with bright blue eyes; a boy, he looks about his own age, his hands up in a surrender gesture. He’s still perched on Keith’s legs, puffing like mad and Keith can see a part of his shirt is ripped.

Keith blinks, making sure this is really happening. “Let me ask again: What. The. Fuck? _Why are you in my room?_ ”

The boy glances at the now fully open window behind Keith’s head, and his expression is a mixture of sheepish and panic.

“Sorry, I—” he extends a slender hand. “I’m Lance.”

Keith stares at him, as if that’s any explanation. He lets out an annoyed huff. “What are you—are you a student here?”

Lance retracts his hand, clearing his throat before nodding once. “Yeah, I am. So it’s not—I don’t normally do this. Or ever, really.”

“So I’m special, then? Lucky me.”

Lance grins-- _actually grins_ at that.

Keith thinks again that he’s surely dreaming.

“It’s a long story,” Lance starts, closing his eyes as if experiencing war flashbacks. “I was with my friends, and then they gave me this _really_ stupid dare that I stupidly accepted and it fucked up halfway through so then I had to escape the cops _somehow_ —and then I saw your window was open, and my dorm is _ages_ away, and I just panicked—”

“Clearly.”

“—and climbed through. Again, I _am_ sorry.”

 Keith went through all of the possible questions he could potentially ask Lance about the situation, but it seemed obvious he would never get to them due to Lance suddenly flying off the bed after seeing the time on Keith’s alarm clock and letting out a yelp.

“Oh, _crap_. This has been real nice and all, but I need to go, I am _so late_ \--” He bounced to the door, but stopped to turn back to look at Keith. “Sorry, again; I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” And then he was gone; back to the silence of 2am as if it never happened.

Keith let his head fall back onto the pillow, letting out a deep sigh and already regretting accepting a room on the first floor.

 

 

_september 16 th_

 

Keith did not expect to ever see Lance again.

But fate proved him wrong; because two days later, as he was walking out of a lecture he saw Lance standing there through the crowd, that familiar grin present and holding what looked to be a box of Redbull’s.

“Hey there.” Lance bounded over to him when the hall cleared out, like they’d known each other for years.

Keith frowned, about to ask if he was dreaming again but Lance carried on.

“I saw a bunch of these in your room—figured this could be a way to say sorry, I guess?”

When Lance continued to hold the drinks out in front of Keith he realized he had no other choice but to accept the offering. Lance leaned in close to his face, and really, Keith feels like he should expect Lance to be the type of person who isn’t aware of boundaries.

“And thank you for your discretion.”

 Keith was about to ask what, but remembered Lance’s almost run-in with the cops. He shrugged, not really caring what it is this boy and his friends do in their spare time. He suddenly hopes these Redbulls won’t be used as some kind of evidence against him in a trial, though. “How’d you know I was here?” he asks instead.

Lance’s eyes went wide, excited. “Oh yeah. I remembered you, actually-- from orientation. I asked around if anyone knew the name of this guy who looked like he fell out of a punk magazine from the early 2000’s.”

Keith squinted his eyes, shifting. “You really just say whatever comes to your mind, don’t you?”

Lance tilted his head, as if _Keith_ was the puzzle to figure out. “I think we should be friends.”

Keith almost choked. “ _What?_ ”

But Lance was already backing away, winking once before sending him a finger-gun. “See you soon, amigo.”

Keith watched him disappear around a corner, and he looked down to the Redbulls again. He had a strange feeling things in his life were only going to get more weird.

 

 

_september 18 th _

 

Keith was in the middle of studying when a knock rattled at his door.

He almost didn’t hear it, since he had his headphones on. But the knocking was insistent, so it rang through his music. He pushed away from his desk, almost cautious as he approached the door. Cracking it open, he should have been shocked (but he wasn’t) to find Lance on the other side.

Lance grinned at Keith, his snapback and a bruise on his face making him look so much younger.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Keith scoffed lightly, opening the door wider to lean against the frame. “What are you doing here?”

“Adventure, of course.” Lance answered, like it was obvious.

Keith briefly wonders if there’s someone out there with a huge butterfly net looking for this boy. He’s not sure why Lance has pegged Keith as this person who suddenly needs to be swept away in a whirlwind of late night escapades and breaking the law, but for some reason…

“Let me put on a jacket.” He says instead.

Lance’s answering smile is blinding.

 

 

He meets Lance’s other friends that night; the ones that create impossible dares and are apparently totally on board with Keith abruptly having a spot in their little group.

“I’m Hunk, this is Pidge.” The large boy with a huge smile points his thumb over to a girl who looks like she should be in middle school.

“I skipped a couple grades.” Pidge explains as they walk through one of the parks near their campus.

Keith looks around him. “Where… are we going?”

“Who knows,” Pidge shrugs, her eyes glinting in the lights littered down the path they’re on.

Keith isn’t sure what he’s gotten himself into, but then Lance is there again, like he always is; draping an arm around his shoulder and flicking Keith’s ear. “Think of it as _our_ orientation—it’s sacred vows, so never break it.”

Keith shies away from Lance; he’s too warm, too much. Lance doesn’t seem too bothered, though, instead making a joke with Hunk up front, and Keith decides then to let go of all his worries.

 

 

_october 25 th _

 

“Coffee?”

A cup is placed in front of him, and Keith reaches out for it instantly; grateful. Lance smiles at him from across the small library table, pulling out his own books and dumping them carelessly next to Keith’s looming pile. It’s quiet, right now. Keith always prefers to study when no one else is; it’s a habit, ever since he was young.

He’s not sure he’s ever seen Lance sleep, though-- it’s only slightly worrying.

“You seem more stressed than usual.”

Lance also apparently knows how to read Keith like a book, now; it’s simultaneously amazing and terrifying.   

“Yeah,” he replies distractedly, “Got a paper due soon; it’s worth 30% of my grade.”

“Hmm,” is all Lance says in reply. It’s silent for a while, minus the occasional grunts and sighs from Lance’s general direction. He’s not the best at keeping still.

Another hour passes and Keith figures he’s done enough for the night, slamming his book shut ceremoniously and glancing a look at Lance.

Lance ditched his study a while ago, from the looks of it, and has been doodling in his book. Keith has to admit the guy can draw.

“Wanna watch Netflix?”

Lance’s head shoots up, grinning, and that’s answer enough.

 

 

_november 11 th_

 

Keith scans the open area for the umpteenth time.

He’s outside his dorm building, and it’s really fucking cold, these days. Lance was meant to be here 10 minutes ago, and Keith wonders of he should text him. But then bright colours are running towards him from across the way, and he’s suddenly engulfed in all things _Lance_.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lance blurts, still in Keith’s space. “Traffic.”

Keith shrugs, pretends he wasn’t worried or anything. He glances at his phone; they’ve still got time. The sun’s gone down, but the soft glow still present in the sky paints Lance in this beautiful haze, and Keith feels something twist in his gut.

He shakes it off; starts walking, Lance falling into step next to him easily.

Their hands brush against each other occasionally, and Keith tries to suppress the shivers that ignite from the touch.

 

 

_december 2 nd _

 

He’s with Hunk one day; they’re getting lunch, and Hunk offered to help him out with one of his assignments. Hunk is nice—Keith isn’t sure he really even deserves to be friends with him.

“You doing anything for Christmas?”

Keith pauses his study to answer. “Just going home; parents are up in Maine, so it’s only a short drive, really.”

Hunk smiles. “Sounds nice; peaceful. My family’s been dying to have me back. My mums miss my cooking, too.”

“Do you…” Keith starts, trying to come off as nonchalant. “What’s Lance doing?”

“He’s got a huge family down in Florida. We’ve been friends since childhood, and this is the longest he’s ever been away from them, I’m sure.”

“Oh.” Keith hates that a small part of him feels sad he won’t see Lance over the holidays.

Hunk gives him a thoughtful look, and Keith fidgets under his gaze; perhaps he really _is_ easy to read. 

Lance appears, then, giving Keith an excuse to avoid any questions Hunk may have thrown at him. Like this ray of confidence, Lance plasters himself next to Keith in the booth, arm draped over the back and he greets Hunk with his trademark finger-gun.

They talk about nothing and everything for ages. Keith’s coffee gets cold; he finds he doesn’t mind—especially if he gets to hear Lance laugh when Hunk reenacts one of his favourite scenes from Zoolander.  

 

 

_january 30 th _

 

“Chris Pratt, Chris Evans and Chris Pine—go.”

“Okay.” Keith crosses his legs, facing Lance on the bed and concentrating. “Fuck Pine; marry… uh, Pratt?”

“Are you saying you’d kill Captain America?”

“How unpatriotic of me, huh.”

“I’ll say.” Lance flops back on Keith’s bed; it creeks under him, some pencils falling to the floor from when Keith _was_ trying to study before Lance burst in his room asking him to play some stupid high school game (that he won’t admit he’s enjoying). Keith’s phone buzzes with a call, so he reaches over Lance to get it. Only Lance starts tickling him when he answers, and Keith tries to bat him away.

“Hey Shiro—no, that’s just Lance. Yeah, I’ve been good—Lance cut it out—how’s mum? I would call her myself, really; I’m just seriously swamped right n—aha ha!” He elbows Lance in the stomach when Lance finds his ticklish spot. “No, Lance is my friend. Yes, he’s— _w-what_? No, _god_ , Shiro, I’m hanging up now. _Goodbye_.”

Keith shoots Lance an unimpressed look; Lance merely rests his head on Keith’s shoulder, batting his eyelashes.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.” Keith grumbles, immediately regretting it.

“Aw, Keithy~”

“Shut up. Isn’t there someone else you can go and annoy?”

Lance grins, all teeth. “But you're so cute when you get pissy, like a chihuahua.”

Keith shoves him away, if only to prevent Lance from seeing the blush creep up on his cheeks.

 

 

_march 7 th _

 

“Why do we never hang out in your room?”

Keith asks Lance one humid afternoon. They’re in Keith’s room, as usual, and he’s acutely aware of the fact he’s never seen the inside of Lance’s dorm. He caught a glimpse of it one day, when he met Lance out the front of his room. But other than that-- nothing.

Lance is quiet for a moment. “I, uh. It… didn’t really occur to me. But I mean—we can. Go there, I mean.”

Keith is glad it’s not jacket weather anymore. He’s even _more_ glad that it grants him with the sight of Lance’s beautifully toned legs. God; legs should _not_ be that sexy.

The walk is only about 10 minutes, but adding up all of the days Lance spends at Keith’s, the other boy’s probably walked a marathon by now in just visiting Keith. Now that the sun’s been glaring in the sky more, the freckles on Lance’s face and back are more prominent; Keith likes to find constellations among them.  

Lance unlocks his door, hanging his snapback on a nearby hook and throwing his keys in a bowl near the door.

The room is much like Keith’s, except… there’s a lot more stuff.

“It’s uh,” Lance clears his throat, trying to pack up some of the toys and gifts littered about his floor. “My family; they send up care packages, like, every month. They’re mostly from my younger siblings; they’re really obsessed with Pokemon at the moment…”

Keith feels his heart swell. He notices Lance’s _almost_ embarrassed expression, and that mustn’t do. “Houndoom is my favourite.” He says, smiling.

Lance’s eyes widen. And then he beams. “I’m a Lugia man, myself.”

Keith stays over that night, surrounded by cards and letters full of love and some opened packets of Mike and Ike’s. He learns all about Lance’s family, about how beautifully close they are. Keith wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to meet them. The next thing he knows is he’s falling asleep on the bed topped with a Looney Tunes bedspread, and something smelling like home and comfort and Lance welcomes him as he drifts off.

When he wakes up the next morning he’s greeted with the sight of a peaceful Lance; his hand is resting near Keith’s, as if it subconsciously sought his out in the night. He’s breathing deep; the morning sun making his hair look golden, specs of dust dancing around him like small fireflies.

It’s hard to look away. 

When Keith finally closes his eyes again; he dreams of Lance.

 

 

_may 20 th _

 

“Hey, Pidge!”

Pidge turned to assess the noise. She was carrying way too many books for someone of her stature; it was almost comical—her hair was a mess and her glasses were slowly falling down her nose.

“Hi Keith, what’s up?”

Keith held some of her textbooks, glancing the titles as he did. “I was wondering where Lance was—I haven’t seen him all day.”

Pidge laughs, good-naturedly. “He’s actually sick. I only know because Hunk checked up on him at lunchtime.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. So watch out—pretty soon you’ll be getting texts at 3am written like how a drunk person would.”

 

 

_may 21 st _

 

“Keiff, I’m fine, really. You can go home, it’s okay.”

“Say my name right, then I’ll think about leaving.”

“Keiff. Keif—Keeei…ff—aw dammit.”

Keith snorts, offering Lance another tissue. Usually whenever he’s surrounded by this much bed-ridden disease he would flip out, but—it’s Lance, so, he soldiers through it.

“If I leave then who’s going to go out and buy your favourite bagel and soup? And laugh with you about new South Park episodes?”

Lance clings to Keith, getting his gross snot on Keith’s new jumper. “I take it back; never leave me.”

Keith’s laugh rings out around the room.

 

 

_may 30 th _

 

They’re out of the city limits, away from the night lights.

Lance asked Hunk if they could borrow his car, driving down the highway like they owned it, blasting Queen and singing along at the top of their lungs.

They pull over at a look-out area about 30 miles out.

Lance hops up on the hood of the car, eyeing Keith and patting the space next to him.

They stare up at the sky, and Keith is more than happy to tell Lance all of the constellations names—they even see a planet shining down on them.

“Space is infinite, so…”

Keith is only slightly startled by Lance’s voice after 10 minutes of silence.

“… _We_ are infinite.”

Keith blinks. “Did you just quote Wallflower to me?”

Lance grins at the sky, not saying another word.

 

_june 4 th _

 

They’re all at the beach. Lance managed to purchase them some scotch with a fake ID, and as the night rolls on Lance becomes less and less discreet with the bottle as he passes it back and forth between them.

“No, no, _no_.”

Lance is in the middle of a fiery debate with Hunk about the pros and cons of being a superhero, of all things. They’re adults, after all.

“Yes, _yes_. People having all of these high expectations, as well as keeping-everything-a-secret—it’s just not possible in this day and age.” Hunk argues.

Keith relaxes back on his towel, allowing the warm evening air to bathe him in a content state of relaxation. And then a body tackles onto him, breaking the peace; of course it’s Lance. They wrestle for a bit, and eventually Lance ends up on top. He’s grinning like a mad man; his thumb starts rubbing Keith’s wrist where he’s gripping it, and Keith is worried Lance might actually _hear_ his heartbeat.

They all catch the bus home, stumbling to the dorms together, trying to keep their voices hush.

Keith walks Lance back to his room, and he can’t stop giggling. He’s not even sure what they were talking about, not sure it even _matters_ , and then suddenly Lance is in his space again, only this time—

Lance’s lips find Keith’s, and for one shattering moment Keith thinks his heart just about stops beating in his chest.

Every surface where Lance is touching him is so hot; _too hot_. It’s scorching, stealing his breath away with every slide of Lance’s mouth on his own. He can taste the alcohol, and Keith is about to deepen it, desperate for it, but--

Lance backs away, looking shaken, and Keith thinks _‘Fuck, fuck.’_

“Sorry,” Lance whispers, his eyes boring into Keith’s.

His lips still tingle, and he frowns. “Lance—”

But Lance looks so scared, sending Keith one more apologetic glance before retreating into his room.

He’s left alone in the empty hallway, and he’s alone the walk back home.

He sends Lance a text when he’s sitting on his bed again. Hopes they’re still okay in the morning. He doesn’t fall asleep for hours, his stomach churning—prays he hasn’t lost the most important friendship he’s ever had.

 

 

_june 5 th _

 

Lance is the same the next morning, but also not.

He’s more calculated with how he acts around Keith, now. Anyone else wouldn’t notice the difference, but Keith does. It’s eating away at him—has him worried they might never be the same again.

He tries not to think about what Lance meant when he apologized; why he didn’t wait to hear what Keith wanted to say.

Hunk says something to the group and Lance laughs in response. It’s forced, Keith can tell, and soon Keith makes an excuse to leave early, ignoring the looks the others definitely give him when he bolts.

He reaches his dorm; and although it was always a small room, it suddenly felt so big without Lance in it.

 

 

_june 15 th _

 

They’re on the mend, he thinks. Lance is opening up around him again.

It still hurts, though--hurts way more than he’d like to admit.

But he thinks he understands. He doesn’t want to push anything; doesn’t want to spook Lance. Clearly, that night is meant to be forgotten, and so he tries to follow Lance's lead.

 _Try_ being the key word.

 

 

_july 3 rd _

 

Lance isn’t going home for the holiday; neither is Keith.

They both agreed to meet up for the forth; make a day of it—Keith has no real plans for it, but, he’s more than happy to do whatever Lance wants to.

It’s currently 11:42pm, and he’s lying on his bed when he gets an idea.

He grabs his wallet and keys and rushes out the door.

He knows Lance is in his room, since he was just texting him. He darts into the convenience store near their campus, glad they have them in stock. He makes the purchase, practically running up the stairs to reach Lance’s door. He catches his breath, knocking once and rocking on the balls of his feet as he waits.

Lance opens the door; sees it’s Keith and opens his mouth in question-- only Keith stops him, holding up the case of Redbulls he bought on the way over.

Lance frowns, eyes searching. “What? Keith—”

“An apology.” He gestures the drinks—hopes Lance remembers.

Lance’s eyes glue to the case, like he’s afraid to look at Keith, suddenly. Keith feels his stomach knot, feels something sour burn in his mouth.

“I miss you.”

Lance frowns harder, then. “I saw you _today_ , Keith.”

“No.” Keith knows he sounds ridiculous—he’s not even sure where he’s going with this, but he sticks with it. “No, I miss how we _used_ to be. I miss _that_ ; more than anything.”

“We’re fine, though, aren’t we?”

Keith actually laughs; it’s a pained sound. “We are? Lance, everything changed the night you—”

“Don’t—”

“—kissed me.”

“Keith.” He sounds pleading, and Keith hates it. _He needs to know._

“Why did you kiss me?”

Lance swallows audibly, shuffling, and he cracks his fingers out of nervous habit. “Because I…”

Keith waits; doesn’t want to ruin anything.

“I wanted to.”

It’s almost a whisper, but Keith hears it. It ignites him, like a spark. The words ring in his ears, and there isn’t a doubt in his mind it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever been told in his life.

Keith walks forward, tentatively. He places the drinks on the dirty floor of the hallway, needing his hands to feel, and the smile that graces his lips is the most genuine one he’s felt in weeks. Lance chances a look at him, and Keith sees the moment of realization flash over Lance’s face.

“Can you… kiss me again? I sadly didn’t get to appreciate it last time, you see.” Keith murmurs.

Lance lets out a breath he’d been holding and comes to rest his forehead against Keith’s, completely enamored. Lance laughs, like chimes blowing in the wind-- a sound Keith has missed _so_ dearly. He holds Lance like he wanted to the last time; like he’s _always_ wanted to.

Lance kisses him again like they’ve known each other for years-- with love and familiarity.

Keith wants to drown in the feeling of it.

The clock ticks over to midnight, and they celebrate the holiday wrapped up in each other on Lance’s small bed; sheets a mess, laughter and affectionate touches passing between them in the intimate space of night.

The apology drinks were left outside; forgotten. But it’s okay—

They don’t need them anymore.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!  
> [/tumblr](http://edsbrak.tumblr.com/) x


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